


The Laugh Which Echoed Through Crime Alley

by samiralula01



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson is still Robin when Jason is adopted, Eurasian Jason Todd, Gen, Jason Todd-centric, Jason is Alfred's little helper, no editing we die like robins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samiralula01/pseuds/samiralula01
Summary: Jason Todd was eight when he met Gotham’s most famous urban legend for the first time. It was the second time he had met Bruce Wayne.





	1. An Amused Bat Meets an Annoyed Street Rat

**Author's Note:**

> This work has taken its influences from both the Synder!verse and Nolan!verse and sorta morphed them together, although Batfleck is who Bruce is in this fic. Lil'Jason is Eurasian here as well, because hey, it was totally a possibility that Shiva might have been his mum, right? I'm rolling with that.
> 
> Also, the League of Assassin's had nothing to do with Scarecrow's run and did not burn down Wayne Manor in this story.

Jason was eight when he met Gotham’s most famous urban legend for the first time.

Though it turned out that the bat wasn’t an urban legend, after all, making the boy suppose that his dad really wasn’t lying when he came home drunk that one night from a henching job with a deep open cut in his arm, bumbling about how the bat himself had done it.

The narrowed blank white lenses of his cowl somewhat unnerved the child, though his outward bravado didn’t crack just yet as his faintly freckled nose scrunched up in a defiant glare back as the vigilante gave the boy he held up by his arm a genuinely amused look, not that it could be registered from behind the dark cowl to the child.

The almost-tank of a batmobile he drove was not something one genuinely expected to see being stripped for parts, which made him use every ounce of his League training not to startle upon seeing a small head of dark curls poking up with wide eyes from the opposite side of the tank where the sounds of tinkering were heard only a second ago which halted upon hearing the intentional crunch of gravel made by Batman's arrival.

It was said that Crime Alley, or what was previously known as Park Row, had once been a surprisingly nice neighbourhood to live in, although its reputation had long been tarnished permanently when it became known as something of a historical landmark due to the murder of Gotham’s most prominent family, and became home to the more impoverished and low families of Gotham.

The boy struggled a bit before Batman placed him down, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards ever-so imperceptibly before being whacked in the abdomen by the cold metal of the tire iron.

It barely felt like a tap due to both the body armour and the boy’s weak, malnourished arm strength, although it did surprise him enough for the boy to run off with a ‘try and catch me, ya’ big boob!’ before fleeing down another darkened alleyway.

The vigilante blinked once quickly before being unable to hold back the laugh he was containing, despite the scene having also been the exact same location and date for his very own parent’s murder nearly a quarter century ago.

And that was how Bruce met his son for the second time.

* * *

[Three Months Ago]

The courts had been full for Dr. Jonathan Crane’s trail, who had been theatrically dubbed as the ‘scarecrow’ by Vicki Vale who seemed to have gained a penchant for giving things nicknames with more flair to them for the sake of a sensational.

He had been shuffled off to a secure wing of Arkham and the more quiet trials of his henchmen were proceeding without the media circus of their boss’s court case.

However, despite the quiet emptiness of the courthouse as the different two-bit criminals and henchmen were passing in and then out of in handcuffs, a single young boy sat at the very back of the courtroom behind the bar in the gallery while a single man addressed as ‘Willis Todd,’ annoys the already visibly ticked Judge by bickering with him pettily.

Since this is Gotham, the gallery was separated with bulletproof glass for good reason and from behind which the boy yawned uncaringly, wondering why he even bothered to watch his old man be hauled off anyway.

He barely knew Willis to begin with as he was more absent than not, though this was a glad thing, considering he would really only stop by at random, most often already drunk and in a rage. His mother was really the only person he cared what happened to, although she had passed just two years prior, needle still sticking in the small woman's arm.

He figured he’d have to go back to living on the streets to escape social services who’d find him in their old, mouldy apartment before he even got the boot by the landlady.

He waits a few minutes after one of the guards hauls the swearing man away before Jason himself stands and leaves the room to sit at one of the benches just outside the courthouse building to play with a cat he saw on his way in that afternoon, even though his fingers twitched for a smoke simultaneously with the small hungered pinch of his stomach.

A shadow falls over him, making him look up to see a towering figure of a man, both in height and build but who nodded kindly as he sat down next to him on the bench, making Jason raise an eyebrow as if pointing out that there was another bench across from the one he was on.

However, he is also one of the tallest people Jason has ever seen, with wide shoulders and muscles he barely hid the bulge of underneath a dark blue three-piece suit, and so Jason didn’t comment aloud on it as he scratched underneath the alley cat’s chin, making it purr pleasedly.

Jason is not an idiot enough to not recognize the clearly wealthy man who checked his black Rolex watch as if waiting for someone himself. As a kid from Park Row, he knew the story of the Wayne murders and their sole living son whose face was plastered all over celebrity gossip magazines with some model hanging off his arm each time.

It was right at that moment when the boy's stomach growled to his embarrassment, showing in the light red dusting across his cheeks and ears as Bruce Wayne raised an eyebrow at him now with a knowing smile that slightly irked Jason.

"Hungry, chum?" The Billionaire asked easily to which Jason didn't reply for a full five seconds before turning his head away with his blush growing, earning a chuckle and a finger pointing to a food truck just across the street that advertised their 'famous chilidogs.'

"Seems like the person I'm meeting is going to be late so do you think you could cross the street and get us both two chilidogs?" He handed Jason a paper bill who eyed it suspiciously for a split-moment and weighed his hunger above his pride. His mother had always been adamant about never excepting hand-outs or begging despite them being poor but technically the man was offering in return for him running the errand... and it was chilidogs...

Accepting the bill and the offer, Jason did as he was asked, settling back into the bench as he passed the elder man the second of the two.

Finishing his chilidog quietly as Bruce ate his own, Jason left quickly before he got roped into having a further conversation with one of Gotham’s richest men of all people, scurrying off while pulling his worn red hoodie over his head as he felt a concerned glance from the man directed at him, although he was distracted by another figure approaching the Wayne Enterprise CEO.

“Bruce,” an older voice greets who seems to know him well. “I didn’t think you’d be able to stop by the courthouse today.”

"You know how it is, Jim, life of the idle rich." Bruce laughed as he finished his chilidog, even though the sound seemed somewhat shallow.

* * *

 [Current]

To be quite honest; once he got past the humour of the situation at hand; when Bruce saw a dimly-lit figure attempting to mess with the batmobile he had imagined two people or at least one cocky, grown-up thug would dare mess with his pride and joy — to which being his state-of-the-art, one of a kind vehicle.

What he saw instead made him immediately forgive anyone who would dare touch his favourite car. The child was concerningly small, much smaller than normal with his messy black curls and freckled face smeared with grease, along with the battered jeans and red hoodie he wore with a hole in the sleeve.

He had met this particular child before, he noted as the little thing looked at him with surprise in his wide eyes, mixed with enough anger and frustration in his own nature that made the bat want to hug the child who looked as if everything and everyone was against him with not a single person to trust.

As he lifted the boy up by his arm, though he still tightly clutched his tire iron, he watched the child's expression go from scared and slightly uncertain to more confident and prepared, albeit even if only on the surface.

And then he got whammed in the abdomen by that very tire iron as the boy ran off and away from him.

Jason himself was tired and quite literally starving at that point. It had been nice getting to eat that chilidog with that Wayne guy three months ago (he ~~drooled~~ dreamed about it at night sometimes) but ever since then he had been on the streets trying to find edible scraps from restaurant and hotel dumpsters.

He felt that numb dizziness he often had as he jumped up to grab ahold of the fire escape ladder, hoisting himself up and climbing to the rooftop of a dilapidated, though lived-in apartment complex. The only thing he could do to wane the feeling slightly was a pack of cigarettes he had swiped from some unconscious drunkard who had collapsed in one of the alleys near a bar. Unfortunately, he spent all his money drinking so a smoke was all Jason got.

Attempting to blink away his swimming vision, the eight-year-old stuck the cigarette in his mouth and fished for the lighter he carried in his pocket.

Although before he could get it lit, the shadowy figure looming over him, which was he was getting used to weirdly fast, snatched out of his mouth and narrowed his eyes at the offending item he now held in between his fingers.

"You know these will kill you, kid." The deeper sound of his voice came through the modulator, making the boy sniff indignantly.

"They keep the hunger away, though."

The Batman paused at that and one could see his shoulders visibly soften with sympathy. "And where are your parents?"

"What does it matter?" The boy frowned at the loss of his cigarette, making him pull on his hoodie's hole. "My old man's doing time again to no surprise and my mom...got sick."

He didn't need to elaborate further for Batman to understand what he meant. Drug addicts weren't exactly uncommon in these parts of town and neither were people who died from those addictions. He had come across a few too many bodies during his patrols over the years, hunched over in street corners and abandoned buildings smelling of the drugs.

“Now are you going to leave me alone or do I have to make you?” Once more that frustratedly angry look came over his expression and although Batman seriously doubted he would be able, he was sure the rather scrappy lad would certainly try to.

"I don't think I have the conscious to just leave you here." The bat-vigilante seemed to look at him thoughtfully now, as if pondering a difficult question.

"I can take care of myself just fine!" Jason insisted narrowing his eyes. "I don't need any assholes with badges and papers."

Although he felt like saying 'language,' upon hearing the cuss he could let it go as a feeling of worry took over that instinct as he noticed the child's eyes were unfocused and he has his hands pressed in tightly against his stomach as though he was trying to push away his hunger.

"You hungry, chum?"

The boy's head snapped up at the words and blinked thrice rapidly, having heard freakishly similar ones before.


	2. The Rags to Riches Poster-Child

Bruce would never forget the first time Jason walked into the manor. The boy had nearly high-tailed it out of there, as if expecting it all to be one big scam, not that Bruce could fault him as he wondered if the words “trust” and “safety” even existed in the boy’s vocabulary.

For the first two weeks, Jason was always alert and ready to bolt at a moment's notice. He flinched away from any physical contact, explored every corridor, nook and cranny of the manor as if mapping out escape routes, closed all doors behind him everywhere he went and always kept all exits in sight. Heck, the first thing he had done upon moving into his room was to move the bed so he would be able to face both the windows and the door while asleep.

It had already been a whole month that had passed now though, and Jason had very hesitantly, almost as if pulling teeth, come to be comfortable around the Manor and its three other occupants. A great deal of his easier transition from the streets to what he referred to as a castle came courtesy of the patient elderly butler with a distinct military-trained style to his stride, who made some of the greatest food Jason had ever seen or ate. That and an energetic older boy who insisted on referring to himself as Jason's new elder brother.

Bruce himself seemed to be focused on attempting at making himself as unthreatening a presence as he possibly could towards Jason, despite him coming to terms with him also being the Batman, although this more irked the boy with the thought of being coddled or seen as sensitive, though he would begrudgingly admit (only to himself) that he did appreciate the billionaire giving him space to settle in his already blindsiding change in environment.

Poking his head in the library where Jason had retreated to say hello after coming back from work and talking to the still concerningly thin boy over dinner about how he could re-enrol in school or the newest book he was reading were some of the ways he tried to slowly ease himself into Jason's life while he was fostering him.

The topic of adoption in lieu of fostering had been brought up and Bruce expressed his interest in taking in Jason as his own child with Dick agreeing enthusiastically in the background while cartwheeling for who knows what reason, as though he seemed to enjoy moving in any other way than walking like a normal person. It was sometimes hard to believe that he was really several years older than him.

Jason seemed somewhat hesitant with that idea though which made Bruce drop the topic until Jason brought it up himself another two weeks later upon receiving a letter that in more formal words explained that his old man Wilis had been shanked in the prison showers due to some purposeless fight.

Perhaps the knowledge that his deadbeat dad was dead gave him the ease of mind that he could be something different than he was and that maybe, just maybe, the pattern of criminal Todd's would end with Wilis.

Dick and Bruce would be gone for most of the nights which left him alone with Alfred, hot chocolate and the butler introducing him to the different many works of Shakespeare. Other nights, it would only be Bruce gone out on patrol and Dick would leave for the Titans.

The boy wasn't sure what to make of his new foster (soon to be adoptive, once another two months passed and the court's finalizing order came through) family's night-life style. He hadn't considered joining them, although he knew that Bruce would never allow it anyway with the way he talked about wanting Jason to have a 'normal life,' with Dick when he thought Jason was sleeping but actually lying in bed awake and listening for the two to come back from patrol.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked one night he had gotten up for a glass of water and found that the door behind the grandfather clock was open and the lights were on downstairs in the cave. Trailing down the steps, he found Bru—Batman sitting on a bed in the med-bay clutching his bleeding side while Alfred was preparing to stitch him.

Although the butler didn't seem surprised to his own credit, the Batman's head snapped up as he took in the small boy who really didn't look all of the eight he was wearing those humorously gifted batman-themed pyjama's Dick had gotten him when he first came to live with them before smiling gently.

"I will be in a minute." He brushed off the child's part-worry part-suspicious look before he sniffed the air a moment with a frown as Alfred made a disapproving sound at him taking his injuries lightly. "Jason...are you still smoking?"

Ever since the lad moved into the manor, Alfred had caught him once on the balcony of his room smoking and Bruce had discovered a pack of cigarettes laying on his bed another time, earning him both times an incredibly long talk on the harms of smoking while he was fed a meat pie instead if he was doing it in habit of hunger.

"No..." His answer trailed off slightly which made Bruce give him a pointed look to which Alfred matched as he looked over his shoulder at him.

"Okay, I lit one, but I put it out. I promise!" Jason surrendered to both the looks he was receiving before lifting himself up onto a chair next to the table of medical supplies Alfred was dealing with.

"Hn." Came the arch of Batman's brow but seemingly more pleased that he hadn't actually smoked it. "Remind me to get you some nicotine gum if you really feel like smoking again."

Grabbing the bandages and hopping down as Alfred sewed Bruce up with his neat, tiny stitches, Jason blushed lightly as Alfred thanked him for being such a good helper. Even though he wasn't allowed to go out with Bruce and Dick, he helped Alfred around the cave with his sanitizing work and restocking the first-aid kits to feel useful.

Once Bruce's wound was cleaned, stitched and bandaged, Jason watching carefully so that he might be able to do it on his own someday, Alfred took a look at the time from his pocket watch and shook his head to see that it was already two in the morning. Still early by Master Bruce's standards but far too late for the young Master Jason.

"Alright then, off you go up to bed, Master Jason." Alfred shooed the boy off who pouted at being sent back to bed, dragging his feet along the cave floor, earning a chuckle from Bruce who scooped him up by his waist and let him partially dangle, enticing a "Hey!" from Jason with a puff of his cheeks, which deflated when Bruce moved his arms to carry him properly, the boy's head resting on his shoulder as he climbed the stairs out of the cave while Jason pretended he was too tired to care.

"Hey, B?" Jason spoke after a moment, Bruce still holding him as he walked upstairs.

"Hm?"

"When the legal stuff is finished, will I be a Wayne?"

Bruce seemed to mull over that for a minute. "We can keep your name hyphenated if you'd prefer."

"What's hi-fun-ated?" Came the mumble back as exhaustiveness started to creep over the child again as he wrapped his arms tighter around Bruce, making the adult rub the boy's back gently.

"It means you'd be Todd-Wayne and not just Jason Wayne."

Jason didn't really care and actually prefered to not have any association with his dead abusive father but his mother was technically also a Todd and he did want to keep her name, which he told Bruce straight, who didn't mind one bit hearing the fact.

"Then yes, you would be both a Wayne and my son." The now bat-dad answered his first question with a hum in his tone as he opened the door to Jason's room and pulled back the comforters to tuck him under, the child already more mumbling in his sleep now than he was actually talking.

"Oh...okay then, dad." Jason nodded before conking out, leaving a gently smiling Bruce to run his hand through the boy's curls. He didn't think he minded at all being Jason's dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I totally support Jason having called Bruce, "Dad," when he was Robin (Although that probably changed when he came back from the grave and stuff.) Like in RHATO Annual 2 when baby!Jason said « "Oh, great. Him. 'Dad,' as I like to call him. Batman to the rest of the world." »
> 
> Also, in this story (and Pre-52 canon) Dick is not adopted by Bruce and is simply his ward, unlike Jason who (again, canonically) was Bruce's adoptive child and his only one for quite some time.


End file.
